


Freaky Fireday

by Ambitious_Rubbish



Series: Kinktober 2020 [12]
Category: Pathfinder: Kingmaker (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Kinktober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambitious_Rubbish/pseuds/Ambitious_Rubbish
Summary: Any sufficiently experienced wizard will tell you that magic has rules. Convoluted rules. Rules that are utterly incomprehensible to those not trained in the arcane arts, but rules nevertheless. It takes time and patience to learn how those rules work, to learn how to navigate the intricate flow of such energies without turning oneself into a newt or something.Unfortunately, curses are a whole different business entirely. Curses don’t follow rules. They don’t believe in rules. They do what they want, when they want.And sometimes, what they want is to have a laugh at a poor ex-paladin’s expense.
Series: Kinktober 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949869
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Freaky Fireday

**Author's Note:**

> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466580
> 
> Day 16: "Body Swap"

Honestly, they all should have known better. They were experienced adventurers, the lot of them, not a bunch of slovenly peasant farmers who’d never seen a simple cantrip cast before.

So when Octavia said she suspected that there was an enchantment built into the giant stone idol they’d found in a clearing in the middle of the woods, everyone was understandably wary.

…

And then Linzi ran up and touched the blasted thing, anyway.

In retrospect, Octavia was pretty sure that was the exact nature of the enchantment in the first place – a magical trap that would override someone’s better instincts and get them to do something catastrophically stupid. Like, yes, touching an obviously magical, giant stone idol standing alone, in a forest clearing, in the middle of nowhere.

As these things went, though, the consequences had been pretty mild. They’d gotten off lucky. A bright flash of light, a humming noise so loud it was enough to rattle teeth, and migraines the size of Restov, but no real injuries. Certainly no deaths. All things considered, very lucky, indeed.

And then came the sudden and unexpected deluge of profanity.

It could only be Amiri and her unrivaled command of filthy invective.

Only, it was coming out of Jaethal’s mouth.

Everyone stared. Had they really just heard what they all thought they’d heard? Linzi spoke up, just to try and get confirmation that she wasn’t going completely out of her mind. Except… it wasn’t Linzi… not with those precisely clipped syllables and that distinctive Kyonin accent.

There were more blank stares, more faint murmurs of confusion.

And then all hell started breaking loose, and when it did, all heads turned in the same direction.

The Baroness Tyria D’Albiac was out of her element with all this magical nonsense, and she knew it, but panicking would help no one, and she knew that, too. In times of crisis, staying calm and focused was the key to making it to the other side of the emergency intact. This situation called for a leader. And Tyria had been born to lead. There was just one problem: it was very difficult for anyone to take her seriously now that her words were spilling forth from Octavia’s mouth.

As the second most level-headed member of the group, it was now up to Valerie to try and restore some badly needed order to the proceedings, and indeed, the others seemed to be willing to listen to her. At least to an extent. “Borrowing” Tyria’s voice and demeanor gave her a level of credibility with the others that she normally didn’t have, but even so, there was only so much she could accomplish. Everyone knew that the former paladin of Shelyn had apparently traded places with the current paladin of Iomedae, and that both worked in her favor, but against it as well. In spite of everything, she couldn’t quite emulate their leader’s mannerisms, nor her presence or her charisma. And like before, any attempts to settle things down merely ended in shouted imprecations.

Octavia raised her voice, trying to be heard over the din. Luckily, she was now in possession of the barbarian’s voice, her intimidating build, and her massively oversized sword. “ENOUGH!”

The single word echoed through the small clearing, causing all conversation to cease.

For about a moment.

The back and forth began again and lasted for several long moments until finally, Valerie – or at least, Linzi in Valerie’s body – for they’d finally managed to sort out for certain who had switched places with whom – spoke. She’d been quiet this whole time and now was her chance to offer up some insight into their… delicate… new situation.

“How does this come off?”

Valerie, in Tyria’s body, looked at her, clearly puzzled by the question. “How does what come off?”

Linzi was busily running her hands over Valerie’s armored chestplate, fingers clearly questing for… something. “This,” she said, rapping her knuckles against the metal. “Are there catches? Snaps? Buttons? Wait, no, plate armor doesn’t have buttons.” She blinked and cocked her head to the side in that way she always did when she was thinking very hard about something. “Does it?”

“… why do you ask?” In all honesty, Valerie already knew the answer. But part of her desperately hoped that if the words were never spoken out loud, she wouldn’t have to face the truth.

Unfortunately, her hopes were quickly and brutally dashed when Octavia, in Amiri’s body, gasped loudly. She looked utterly scandalized. “Linzi! You aren’t actually suggesting-”

The bard had somehow gotten her purloined body blushing furiously. Her cheeks were a bright red, though she steadfastly tried to ignore them. “Oh, come on, like nobody else is thinking it?”

And now Tyria’s cheeks were bright red as well, but maybe less from embarrassment, and more from the fact that Valerie-in-Tyria’s-body was glaring bloody murder at her. “Are you seriously going to – what, are you just going to run off into the bushes so you can stare at my-”

“I just want to see what all the fuss is about. I mean, people have written poems about them. As a writer, I just think the subject needs a more thorough… examination.”

“HA!” Amiri again, and now she was wearing a distinctly lecherous smile. It looked supremely unnerving on the undead elf’s face.

Tyria made another attempt at diplomacy but once again found that nobody was terribly interested in diplomacy at the moment. “Linzi… maybe that’s not the best idea right now?”

“Like you don’t want a peek yourself… your Grace.” Octavia wore the most smug of grins, and, in a display of the utmost irreverence, even winked as the proverbial icing on the cake.

“Well, I...”

“Exactly.”

With that settled, Linzi put out a call for help, having gotten nowhere with the straps and buckles and other things of Valerie’s armor. “So, if we’re all done arguing, could someone just help me with this-”

“Allow me.”

Once again, heads turned, everyone now staring incredulously at Jaethal-as-halfling. It was obvious no one had expected her to willingly participate in this foolishness, but here she was. She shrugged and offered up something vaguely resembling an explanation. “What? I’m not dead. I’m _undead._ ”

“Wonderful!” said Octavia. She pointed to the east and began leading the group in that direction. “There looks to be a little stream over at the edge of the clearing, there. Seems like the perfect place to adjourn for a little while...”

“This. Is. Madness. Tyria, you need to put a stop to this. Now!”

But it was out of her hands. “Sorry, Val, it seems like everyone in the party wants to have a look at your dirty-pillows.” She shrugged and trotted off after the others.

Valerie threw her hands up in disgust. Her mouth – Tyria’s mouth – curled into an angry snarl and she turned her face up towards the heavens. “Shelyn, you malicious shrew. You are having me on.”


End file.
